The Value of Lives
by Corinth
Summary: Olivia struggles with guilt after realizing that she and Elliot are too close to be perfectly professional. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing.

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I'll never forgive myself. 

The case was nothing particularly different. A fifty year old man was abducting children from parks and using them as sex toys at his clandestine night club. We tracked him down after finding two girls and a boy in an alleyway, covered in bruises.

It is always the cases involving children that are the most wearing, of course. To me and to Elliot. Especially to Elliot. To me, the kids are vaguer, I guess. I don't have anyone to compare them with. Elliot always sees his own kids in the victims, which is why he gets so violent with the convicts. He beat the last guy we caught until he was almost dead. I had to pull Elliot off him. I always worried that he would be fired, and I don't think I could work without him.

I almost had to.

When we found the nightclub, we went in. I went first, Elliot covering me from behind. It seemed empty, but I turned a corner and the next thing I knew someone had a knife up to my throat.

I should have been more careful. It's not exactly that you get complacent after so many of these cases, but sometimes you forget that whoever you are looking for could also be looking for you. Usually the perps try to avoid us, but every once in a while one comes after us.

I felt the knife slit my skin, but only slightly. It didn't even hurt, really. It just felt…surprising. I understood how thin the line between life and death is.

I had made no noise during this attack. I'm not sure why. Well, saying something wouldn't have changed anything. All I could do, really, was hold onto the arm with the knife and try to pull it away. Also, I knew that if I made any sound, Elliot would find me and see. I hoped, idiotically, that for some reason he would just leave. Save himself. Of course, he didn't. He wouldn't.

When he came around the corner, gun raised, calling "Olivia?", I closed my eyes briefly. He saw me, and I saw the shock register in his eyes. I felt a trickle of blood run down my neck, and his eyes followed it.

"Let her go," he said, his gun pointed at the man whose face I had yet to see. I noticed that Elliot's hand was shaking. I don't know what I would have done if the situation was reversed. I mean…I'd try to save him, of course I would. But…well, it all came down to us being perhaps too close.

There is a clause in our job descriptions that says if, to take a perp, we have to sacrifice our partner, we should do it. Elliot and I both agreed to it. And we both lied.

We didn't know we were lying at the time. Over the years, however, I think we both realized that, if it came down to it, we would break the agreement. We meant too much to each other. We had never acted on it, but I loved him and he loved me.

"Let her go," he said again, but the man only laughed.

"Why would I do that? You think I only like children?" Keeping the knife to my throat, he leaned around and licked the blood off of my skin. I shuddered involuntarily and forced myself to look at Elliot. With my eyes, I pleaded with him to uphold the agreement, to take down the man and myself along with him if needed, and save himself.

He stared back at me, his expression set. My heart fell. He wouldn't do it.

"You are going to die, you bastard." Elliot was taking slow steps forward. "If I don't kill you now, you'll go to prison and they'll kill you then. Unless you let her go. Then we'll just get you life in prison."

I have no idea if the man said anything. The only thing I remember of the next few seconds is the ear-splitting crack that I knew to be a gunshot, and the thud as Elliot's body hit the ground.

"Elliot!" I screamed. Abject terror took hold of me and I made the arguably foolhardy move of trying to get away from the knife by darting sideways. I felt the slit across my throat deepen, but I did indeed succeed in getting away and surprising the man. Without pausing to think, I pulled out my gun and shot him in the chest.

I turned my back on him before he finished falling, and I ran to Elliot.

He was lying on his back, blood blossoming over his shirt. His breath was coming in sharp gasps. I fell to my knees at his side and tore off his shirt, at the same time pulling out my phone. I called the station. "This is Olivia. Elliot's been shot. We're at the nightclub. Perp's dead." I hung up and threw my phone aside.

I could hardly look at the wound on his chest, but I forced myself to put my personal feelings aside. I put my hand on his heart, which was mercifully still beating, albeit weakly. I surmised that the bullet had missed his lungs as well, because he wasn't coughing.

I did my best to slow the bleeding, pressing his wadded shirt against the hole. I talked to my partner, trying to keep him conscious. "Elliot, I got him. It's over. An ambulance is on its way to get you. You'll be ok." My voice cracked and I fought back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Elliot's eyes opened. "Liv," he said weakly, looking at my neck. I raised my hand to it and felt sick when I felt the flap of skin. I could not let myself get lightheaded, not then. Not when Elliot needed me. Not when it was my fault that he was dying.

"I'm fine," I said dismissively. "Hold on, Elliot. They're almost here." I took his hand in mine. "Hold on. I'm here. I'm here."

We waited perhaps three more minutes before I heard sirens outside. A few seconds later, John and Fin were running down the stairs and into the room, followed by paramedics. John pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in his arms, which was lucky since I don't think I could have stood by myself. I turned my head so I could see Elliot being moved onto a gurney.

"I need to go with him," I said, and pulled away from John. I started swaying immediately, and John took me by the shoulders to steady me.

"Damn…Fin!"

Fin came over and his jaw dropped. I didn't know what they were doing, but all of a sudden a wave of nausea came over me and I turned away from them both, gagging and dry-heaving, having nothing to vomit after not eating all day.

As soon as I was able to control myself, I straightened up. Fin immediately took me by the arm and guided me over to another gurney. "I'm fine," I protested weakly, but Fin just shook his head.

"It's ok, Olivia. Stop trying to be strong. You can't do anything else for Elliot, and you need your energy.

I assumed the cut in my throat was worse than I had thought, so I obeyed.

As I lay in the ambulance with John by my side (Fin was going back to the station to report), I tried to see Elliot but John stopped me. "Keep your head still," he ordered. I could see that he was scared. Unflappable, tough-as-nails John was scared. That, more than anything, drove me into panic.

"Is he alive?" I asked hoarsely.

"Yes."  
"It was my fault," I said, closing my eyes. "I went too far ahead, and the perp got me. Elliot was just trying to protect me."

"It wasn't your fault," John chided gently. "Don't worry, Olivia. We'll get through this."


	2. Chapter 2

I must have passed out or been put under, because I don't remember anything else until later that night. I guess it was technically later that morning. I awoke in a hospital bed with Casey sitting beside me, reading a book. "Hey," I said.

She dropped the book onto her lap. "Olivia! How are you feeling?"

I closed my eyes. "Guilty," I whispered. "How is he?"

"He's alive. He's still out, and he'll have to stay here for a couple weeks."

"Casey…I broke my contract. So did he."

"Olivia-"

I shook my head, but stopped because it hurt. "No, we did. He didn't have to get hurt, but he wouldn't risk my life. And because of that, we both almost died. If we had, the man would have gotten away, and it all would have been pointless."

She held up her hand to stop me. "Olivia, they only include that in the contract because they know that people will grow to care for their partners so much that letting them be killed becomes out of the question. You think you and Elliot are the only ones who have ever been in this situation?"

"No. But-"

"But you love him. And that makes it different."

I did not bother to ask how she knew that. "Yes."

She sighed. "Don't take this to mean that the victims don't matter to me. You of all people know that they do. But I think that letting a perp get away is less important than one of you two dying."

"What?"

"You heard me. Say Elliot had sacrificed you tonight. No, he wouldn't have been wounded, but you would have been dead along with the perp. You and Elliot are the best detectives we have, and keeping you alive to go after the innumerable criminals in New York is more important than catching one man."

"So our lives are more important than the victims?"

"Yes, your lives are more important because of the number of rapes and murders you will prevent. Letting one man go, one man that you will probably catch up with soon anyway, is better than one of you dying. Trust me, Olivia."

I closed my eyes. "I don't know what to think," I mumbled.

She said nothing, but squeezed my hand briefly.


	3. Chapter 3

I was allowed to see Elliot that night. I thought they were being overly cautious, seeing as I only had stitches in my neck, but I wasn't allowed to walk to his room. I hate wheelchairs. I felt so…vulnerable. I didn't want Elliot to see me that way.

At least they left me alone with him. I took his hand in mine and kissed it. He was so pale. It was the most surreal experience of my life, seeing Elliot like that. Many adjectives floated around my head when I thought of Elliot, but weak had never been one of them. It was hard to imagine him kicking down a door as he lay there, and that scared me. The doctors had told me he would survive, but I sort of doubted their judgment.

"Elliot," I said, stroking his cheek.

To my immense surprise, he opened his eyes. "Hi," he said after a second, no doubt groggy from his surgery.

"Hey," I said, a smile breaking across my face. He was alive, and talking to me. I wouldn't have dared to ask for more. I opened my mouth to apologize to him, but he cut me off.

"Don't you dare say you are sorry."

I shook my head. "I was too far ahead…."

"And I was too far behind. I could just as easily blame myself for this whole thing."

"Are you crazy? This wasn't your fault."

His eyes bored into mine. "I could say the same to you."

I closed my eyes, and the tears that had been threatening to fall for hours finally came. "Elliot…."

"Hey." He slowly lifted his hand and brushed a few tears off of my cheek. "How are you?"

I shrugged. "Ok." I forced a smile. "I look like Frankenstein, I'm sure," I said, indicating my neck.

"You look beautiful," he replied softly. "Olivia…I love you."

My smile became less fake. "I love you too." It was the first time we had said those words out loud, though they had been understood for quite a while. "Elliot…Casey said it doesn't matter. That we won't sacrifice each other. She said it is more important to have us together, alive, as a team, so we can catch criminals."

He was silent for a few minutes. "What do you think?" he finally asked.

"I…I don't know."

"It's not cruel to say you agree, Liv."

"It feels like it is."

"It turned out alright this time. Protecting each other."

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I did one hell of a job protecting you."

"I'm alive. You're alive. He's dead. It worked out ok." He closed his eyes. "It's always been you, Olivia. Even when we first became partners, I felt…something. I knew. I wouldn't have let you die even then. Nothing has changed. Nothing needs to change."

I sighed. I still wasn't sure how I felt about the whole situation, but I decided not to worry about it right then. "Go to sleep," I said, caressing his face.

"Stay with me?"

"Always," I replied, kissing his lips lightly.


	4. Chapter 4

I couldn't concentrate at work when I went back. Cragen had me on light duty until I got my stitches out, which I suppose was a good idea. Well, messing up my stitches wasn't my worry, and I'm not sure that it was his either. I was just too distracted, worrying about Elliot, to be much good canvassing or anything. I was more thankful for John and Fin than ever before. Not only did they do their best to cheer me up and make me worry less, but they never complained about all the extra work they had as a result of both of us being incapacitated.

There is a picture of Elliot and me sitting on my desk. If pictures got worn out by being looked at, that particular photograph would have been completely demolished after the first couple of days. I was looking at it again, not paying attention to much else, unable to focus on anything but the pulsing fear I felt whenever I thought of Elliot, when Casey came in and pulled up a chair next to me.

"How are you?" she asked immediately. It was a daily occurrence by then, and I really appreciated it. I knew how busy she was, but she still made time to check on me. It added to my guilt in a way, though, because I couldn't help remembering how tough Elliot and I had been on her at the beginning.

"I'm fine," I replied, almost truthfully. I _was_ mostly ok. There was nothing anyone could do about the worry. My stubbornness and tendency to distrust people kept me from believing that Elliot would be ok, even though the doctors assured me he would be. I guess I didn't exactly doubt it anymore, but I wouldn't rest easily until Elliot recovered enough to start kicking perps' asses again. I know that sounds weird.

"Are you sleeping better?"

"Yeah." I was having nightmares about the whole thing. Nightmares were not foreign territory to any of us at the precinct. Everyone was plagued by them at one time or another; poor Elliot probably had it the worst, followed by Melinda. Usually I was pretty good at realizing that it was a dream before it got too out of hand, but I hadn't been able to do that with this newest round. I was absolutely convinced it was all really happening, that Elliot really died. The worst part was that my brain had decided to make Elliot's 'death' even more dramatic and horrible, killing him in the most gruesome ways. So all in all, I had not been sleeping well.

"Yeah," she said back. There wasn't much else to say. "The first week is the hardest."

"I hope so." My eyes flicked back to the picture of the two of us. It was taken at Maureen's high school graduation. "He's supposed to get out in a couple of days."

"I know. Are you going to pick him up?"

"If I can." I paused. "I…don't know what to say to him."

Casey rested her chin on her fist. "Why not?"

I sighed. "Well…so many huge things have happened."

She looked at me questioningly.

"I guess it's just two, actually. It's always weird when someone gets back from being away…it's amazing how fast things change. Not big changes, but enough to make it really different."

"And?" she prompted.

"And…I told him that I love him. And he said he loves me too."

She just stared at me for a minute, and then, in a tone closer to that of a teenage girl than anything I ever thought I would hear from Casey, she said, "Olivia!"

I smiled at her reaction. It was so out of character, but I appreciated the sentiment. "I know."

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Casey rose to leave, saying, "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I replied, biting my lip and turning back to my paperwork.


	5. Chapter 5

I didn't sleep at all the night before I went to pick up Elliot from the hospital. I worried that, when I showed up, the doctors would tell me he couldn't leave or that something new had happened to slow his recovery. I know I was being completely illogical and just making my life harder and believe me, if I could have stopped my rampant panic, I would have.

Cragen gave me the entire day off. I'm sure he had the right reasons in mind, and again, they were probably good ideas. I wouldn't have been able to focus at all, waiting all day to go to Elliot. But sitting at home, I had absolutely nothing to do. I spent the day drifting purposelessly through my apartment, sitting at the table to drink coffee, getting up and going to look out the window, forgetting I had already gotten coffee and pouring myself another cup. When it was finally time to go get Elliot, there were six untouched mugs of room temperature coffee cluttering the kitchen.

I sped to the hospital, my heart pounding. I just wanted to see him, and I felt like I couldn't wait another second.

When I pulled up into the drive, I was shocked to see Elliot already outside, leaning against a stone pillar. He was looking up at the darkening sky, an expression of…something…on his face. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

I turned off the car and got out without wasting another second. I strode toward Elliot, a smile spreading across my face as I saw his half-smile that I love so much.

"Hey, Liv," he said softly, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the top of my head.

"Elliot," I breathed. His arms felt strong, the way I remembered. I finally believed that he was going to be ok.

We just stood there, not talking and not moving, for five minutes. I then became aware of Elliot's heartbeat in my ear, and it hit me again how close a call it had been. I hugged him tighter.

"How are you?" he asked finally, pulling away slightly so he could look at me. I felt his eyes on my neck, but I didn't even worry about his reaction. I knew he didn't care about a scar. He brushed his fingers across it lightly, leaving a trail of heat on my cold skin.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Sleeping?"

I shrugged. "Sort of. You know."

"I know," he agreed. He stroked my cheek. "You're freezing. Let's go."

We got into the car and I pulled away from the hospital, hoping I would never again have to visit Elliot there again. "Your place?" He was silent, so I looked over at him. "Elliot?"

"Go to the office."

I was only surprised at his request for a second. Of course he wanted to go back. He missed it. He wanted to make sure he still belonged there. Part of him, I think, was scared to go back. Both of us came closer than ever before to dying on our last case. He had to get back in there soon, or it would be too hard.

When we got to the office, I realized that I had paid absolutely no attention to where I was going. It was amazing how effortlessly I drove there…how well-worn the path was. It was the closest thing to home I had ever had.

We stood in the dark for a few minutes, looking around at everything. Papers covering John's desk. He never did straighten up much. My desk was pretty meticulously organized. It was always that way, but it was even clearer than usual as a result of how little work I had been doing.

Elliot walked toward our desks. I expected him to go to his, but he instead stopped at mine. He ran his fingers over the wood slowly. "What have you been doing?"

I smiled. "Paperwork. Kind of. I didn't get much done."

He held out his hand for me. I went to him and took it. "We can do this, you know," he said quietly, looking at the picture of the two of us. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I know we can," I replied, smiling.

We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes before I said, "Elliot?"

"Yeah, Olivia?"

I turned to him. "I'm so glad you're ok."

"Me too." He stepped closer to me, his arms going around my back and his lips coming to meet mine. He moved me until I felt my desk hit the back of my legs and I sat down on it. I lay back, thankful for the lack of clutter on my desk, pulling Elliot on top of me.

"You're probably not supposed to be exerting yourself yet," I said with my best stern voice, but I couldn't help smiling.

"To hell with that," Elliot whispered against my neck. I could feel him smiling too. "I love you, Olivia," he said, by way of explanation.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I buried my face in his shoulder. "I love you too."

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So, this is officially complete. I hope you liked it! I'd really appreciate it if you'd review and tell me what you thought of it! Thanks! 


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